After New Year's
by twigflick
Summary: My take on the scenes following the New Year's celebration in the series 6 finale. Lots of Carson & Hughes! Previously titled "After Christmas," but realized my mistake after rewatching the last episode. ;)
1. Chapter I

It was late, but Elsie could still hear the sounds of general revelry coming from upstairs. She and Charlie were the only ones left downstairs, the rest having gone to bed in preparation for the annual New Year's cleanup. She let out a sigh and put down the ledger she had been reviewing. That could wait till tomorrow.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It was Charlie, of course.

"Some New Year's, eh?" he said as he settled into the chair opposite her.

"Indeed it was." She smiled, thinking back on the evening. "I suppose you think it was rather forward, breaking into song like that?"

"No such thing. It could have been, but you did it very tastefully. I enjoyed it."

She laughed. "That's a relief."

They sat in companionable silence for a while. The racket upstairs gradually died away, as did the fire in her sitting room. At last Charlie remarked that they ought to be going, and they went out into the hall.

As they were putting on their coats, Elsie couldn't help her eyes straying to his hands. They didn't seem to be shaking as he began to do up his buttons, but she could have sworn that he'd realized she was looking at him, perhaps in pity, because the next moment his right hand was trembling violently.

"I'm sorry," she said, a bit awkwardly.

"Whatever for?" he said, finishing his buttons and donning his hat. He held the door for her. "We'd best be off– it's quite late."

Elsie sensed that he wanted to avoid the subject, and she let several moments of silence pass as they walked through the courtyard, which was now covered in a fine dusting of snow. But somehow she felt that it was worth pressing.

"Charlie, you're not feeling pushed out, are you? By his lordship's suggestion that you… take on a different role?"

He looked at her. "And have my old one taken by Thomas? Yes, I do feel pushed out, I suppose– but that's of no consequence."

"But it is," she said, taking his arm. "You've got to make peace with it, find a way to move on from it of your own accord."

"Very well, but how?"

"By training Thomas, of course."

" _Training_ Thomas? I've already done that. I told his lordship so, in fact."

"Well, yes… but there must be some things he doesn't know about? Things that only a long-term butler in this house would know?" She was smiling as she said it, and he smiled back.

"All right, I'll consider it. _Consider,_ mind you." He took her hand and they continued to walk home in the lightly falling snow.


	2. Chapter II

She was doing up her hair that morning when she saw him, in her dressing table mirror, approach her with the same expression of hesitant worry that he'd worn last night. She knew what subject was about to come up.

"Yes, dear?" she said, without turning around.

"It's about Thomas," he said, twisting his hands. "I've given the matter a great deal of thought, and I believe I will train him– more extensively than I have already, that is. Mainly, I've realized that we wouldn't want him going into the position feeling entitled or complacent. After all, he's just snaked his way in– no job interview, no stressful waiting period."

"Well, it's true that he would hardly feel entitled or complacent after a training course with you."

He shot her a look. "Elsie, I'm trying to be serious here."

"No, you're quite right. Best to knock him down a peg or two. Now," she said, standing up from the dressing table, "I believe that he's going back to Sir… Sir Stiles, that's it, this morning to break the news."

"Well, with any luck they'll let him leave early," he said as they walked downstairs.

"Yes, it seems likely. I gather he didn't do much there."

"He'll be glad to leave then, won't he?"

"Oh, I think he'll be more than glad," she said, raising an eyebrow. She stopped to lock the cottage door behind them and continued. "You know, I believe he was really quite fond of us all– except Mr. Bates, perhaps."

"You think so?" he said, surprised.

"I do. If you must know, I think what brought on all that sad business– yes, that business," she said as he cringed, "was not so much his trouble finding a position, but rather his sadness knowing he would have to leave the place he grew up. You grew up here too– I expect you can relate?"

"I can," he said, sighing. "Though I don't like to think of myself relating to Thomas in any way, really."

"Oh, Charlie," she said, simultaneously rolling her eyes and squeezing his hand more tightly.

...

Breakfast was a solemn affair that morning, many of the staff having woken with very heavy heads. Elsie found to her surprise that Molesley was breakfasting with them.

"Lending a hand on New Year's, are you, Mr. Molesley?" she said lightly, trying to make a go at conversation.

"I thought I would, Mrs. Hughes." Elsie noticed that as Molesley said this, he glanced at Miss Baxter. She tried to stop her thoughts from running wild at that observation; luckily, she was distracted by the sound of the first bell ringing.

"That's for you, Miss Baxter," Charlie said, leaning back in his chair in that perfectly calm way he had. It crossed Elsie's mind that he wouldn't be leaning back in his chair like that for much longer, and she felt a lump rise in her throat.

"I'll be off, then," Elsie said, rising from the table a little more abruptly than she meant to and probably leaving the others wondering. She herself was wondering too, wondering why she had suddenly felt such a tide of emotion, but luckily, she was able to reclaim herself after a minute or two in the hallway. By then, it was too late to return to breakfast, and she went to her sitting room to settle some accounts.

The morning passed quickly enough, and to her relief she never ran into Charlie, who she was sure would ask her about what had happened at breakfast. Her hope was that they wouldn't cross paths until the servants' lunch, at what time he would likely have forgotten about it. But no such luck– at noon she heard a knock on her sitting room door and him asking to come in.

"What are you doing here at such an hour?" she asked after he'd sat down. "They must be just starting luncheon upstairs."

"They are," he said, giving her a look that spoke volumes.

"Ah, so you've relegated that to Andy?"

"Not exactly." He paused, apparently struggling to find the words for what he was going to say next. "I spoke to his lordship this morning. He said that in order to avoid any 'further embarrassment' on my part, Andy had better do the pouring until Thomas begins as butler."

"Well, that seems reasonable," she said, attempting a smile.

"Yes, but 'further embarrassment?' You and I both know he's saying that to mean that he wants to spare his tablecloths and the whispering from guests!"

"What, are there guests today?"

"No, it's just his lordship, in fact. The others are dining at the Dower House. It didn't make sense, somehow, to have more than one servant attending to a single man– not these days, anyway– so I let Andy manage it all. But back to what his lordship said, of my 'further embarrassment–'"

"Charlie, you must see that his lordship's just trying to make things easier for everybody."

"For himself, anyway," he muttered.

Elsie sighed. "I hate to turn your words against you, but I know the importance you've always put on 'keeping up standards'…" She knew as soon the words left her mouth that it was the wrong thing to say.

"Right," he said. "So I'm the standard that's slipping. I'm the one who's dragging everyone down."

"That's not what I meant at all," she said, trying to repair the damage. "But I believe his lordship has your best interests at heart. I don't think it's about 'embarrassment,' so much… I think he knows how much you care about standards, and he wants to protect you from your own judgment."

A moment of silence elapsed, during which Elsie looked over to see her husband lost for words. At last he spoke.

"Yes, I suppose that's it," he said softly, and then gave a sort of smile. Elsie smiled back. Then suddenly, Charlie brought up the subject she'd been dreading to hear.

"Elsie, what I'd actually come here to ask you about was the incident at breakfast."

"Incident?"

"Well, you seemed very down in the mouth, and then you sort of walked out."

"Ah yes," she said, bent on not saying more than she had to.

"May I ask what compelled you to do so?" He seemed concerned, more than anything, so she resolved to fess up.

"You'll say I was being silly," she said, idly fingering the tablecloth beside her, "but I was thinking, at breakfast, how much I'd miss the sight of you leaning back in that big old chair."

"Is that what it was?" he said, apparently relieved.

"Yes, it was silly."

"No, not at all. I'm touched," he said, looking at her. "Really."

She laughed a little, and then stopped laughing when he leaned across the table to kiss her.


End file.
